


Orchids in Summertime

by angelheartbeat



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, But hanahaki aus are my shit, F/M, Flowers, Gwenvid Week, Hanahaki AU, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, I guess???, I've missed the first few days, Pining, Unrequited, Unrequited Love, and Davey likes trees, haha its a tree pun, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-21 21:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11952543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheartbeat/pseuds/angelheartbeat
Summary: No matter how many flowers David throws up, he can't show anyone that hes sick - it would disrupt camp, it would make everything go to hell, and it would mean he might have to get the surgery, remove the flowers.Remove Gwen.





	Orchids in Summertime

**Author's Note:**

> this was for fuckin uhhhhh one of the gwenvid week days I think it's day 4 even though it's not even the right date anymore ttttake this

It was early evening when the first hint of the disease appeared in David's throat, just when he was sitting down with Gwen to watch TV until night fell and neither of them could be bothered to stay up any longer. The TV was blaring some trashy show that Gwen had convinced him to let her put on, and he had been gazing at her as subtly as he could, and the tickling in his throat had started. 

The first few coughs hadn't yielded anything but Gwen asking concernedly if he was okay.

"I'm fine, Gwen!" David managed to choke out between coughs. "I think I might just turn in early tonight. I must be getting a cough!"

"Well, alright.." Gwen replied, eyebrows drawing together. David attempted a grin behind the hand covering his mouth to block the coughs, and Gwen's expression softened, eyes darting back to the TV and making David's heart melt all over again, which prompted a whole new bout of coughing, and he rushed to bed as quickly as he could.

Slamming the door to the bedroom behind him, David let his shoulders fall as the coughing died down, and attempted to push Gwen out of his mind, but every attempt just sent her more into his train of thought, and eventually he felt something skitter across his tongue and dance into his palm, and when he dared open one of the eyes he had squeezed shut from the force of coughing, his stomach turned.

There was a single, tiny orchid petal sat directly in the palm of his hand, and he swallowed down the fear bubbling in his stomach. 

Better get to bed. 

* * *

The next morning, his alarm woke him as usual, and he sprung out of bed, instantaneously feeling nauseous but brushing it aside as queasiness from the dodgy camp food they served. Everything went fine for a while. He dressed quickly, caffeinated himself with a mug of tea in the mess hall, and burst into Gwen's room with a grin and a cherry; "Good morning, Gwen!"

And instantly froze, because as Gwen groaned and dredged her consciousness up from the deep sleep she had been in, David was struck with the sudden realization of how pretty she looked even now, with hair mussed up from sleep and a crease on her cheek from the pillow she had been laying on. He had never thought to notice it before, but as she yawned and made a face at him, something tugged at his heart, twisted his stomach and tickled at his throat. He had to turn away immediately, which caught Gwen's attention.

"Are... you okay, David?" she asked, and the tickle in David's throat grew stronger. 

"Absolutely!" he replied, voice scratchy, and allowed himself to cough lightly, but only once. "That gosh darned cough is just digging its claws in, is all! I'm going to go wake up the kids."

Before Gwen could formulate a response David was out of the room, coughing into his hand and trying not to panic at the two orchid petals falling into his palm. Instead, he simply shoved them into the pocket of his shorts, reminded himself to stay positive, affixed a smile onto his face and slowed his panicked run to a bouncing stroll. He performed his usual wake-up duties with no decrease in his level of energy and vigour, a fact much lamented by the far less enthusiastic campers.

Before long, everyone was sat in the mess hall, eating breakfast. David and Gwen were no exception, with David discreetly coughing into his hand every so often. He knew he'd have to address this, this, this  _disease_ he had contracted before long, that reminding himself to stay positive wouldnt work forever, but for now he'd rather not think about the love building in his chest, or the flowers clawing alongside it. No, no need to. He had a camp to run, and a million other responsibilities to be dealt with, and he just couldn't deal with the thought of love right now. Better to just forget about it altogether. 

Naturally, it wasn't going to be so easy. It cropped up again and again and again, every time Gwen dropped the resident sourpuss face and gave a genuine smile, every time their hands brushed in an activity, every time their eyes met, David would have to turn away and cough into his hand as quietly as he could. 

By the end of the day, his pocket was filled with orchid petals, so much so that it was almost noticeable. The camp was quiet and empty, rowdy kids having tired themselves out enough to sleep properly for once, and Gwen having ensconced herself in a trashy romance novel.

It was the perfect opportunity for David to sneak out with his pocket full of orchids and light the smallest fire he could, tossing the petals into the flames one by one and watching as they were engulfed and swallowed greedily. He sat there for a lot longer than necessary, even once his pocket was empty and the fire dimmed to a low, glowing pile of embers. Then he sighed, adjusted his bandana, and headed back to the cabin.

* * *

Perhaps its wise to explain where it all began, before the first hint of disease.

David and Gwen had been coworkers for years, hanging somewhere between co-workers, acquaintances, and best friends. They were there for each other, always, but most of the time their emotions and personal lives were unshared. 

That had changed when Gwen had been faced with some sort of personal call, David forgot the context exactly, something about a sister? and she had burst into his room, already sniffling, and he had stayed up for hours trying to get some sort of sense out of her.

They had grown a thousand times closer that day, relationship tipping far closer to best friends than mere coworkers. But it was also that day when David had first felt the stirrings of something in his heart when he looked at Gwen, when he first developed a crush that he spent ages trying to hide, and for a long time he truly thought it had gone away.

Until that one day when he had stared a little too long at the side of Gwen's face, and the way her nose curved, and the way her eyes half-closed when she was tired but not tired enough to sleep, and the way her hair curled around her shoulders when it was pulled out of the ponytail and allowed to hang loose, and thought about every little thing about her personality and her unusual charm and her looks, and something had once again stirred in his heart, had awoken from the deep slumber David had put it in, and the tickling had started, ramping this up painfully obviously from a mere crush to love. But he was desperately trying not to think about that, telling himself that if he just stayed positive then everything would be okay, the feelings would go back down and he could go back to being totally open with Gwen. And he tried, he really tried to push the feelings down, but they just got stronger and stronger the more he tried, until he felt like his heart was going to burst and orchids were blossoming from it with painful force.

* * *

Like, for instance, a week or so after the disease started blossoming, so to speak, when David was hunched over a toilet, tears and flowers falling into the bowl at a fairly equal ratio. The disease had grown stronger, had started growing leaves, stems, to go alongside the petals, had started staining the occasional flower part with a drop or two of blood that made David's brain run wild with panic.

It was getting harder and harder to stay positive, which was fair enough, he thought to himself as he retched up a fresh bouquet of petals and leaves. The tickling subsided, at least briefly, and David stood up weakly, taking a moment to gather himself as he flushed the toilet and watched as flora swirled depressingly down, and he wished he could flush away his love with that much ease. 

When he fixed his ever-present smile back onto his face and strode back into camp like nothing had happened, it was Max who kicked him in the back of the shins and gave him a glare. 

"What is it, Max?" David asked, perhaps a little more snappily than he would usually have responded. Max rolled his eyes.

"Whats wrong with you?"

David froze for a second, brain going wild, before he took a breath and made sure his smile hadn't faltered. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, David. You've been avoiding Gwen, disappearing every five minutes, coughing like a maniac even more often than that, and sneaking out of bed at night like a fucking creep to do who the fuck knows what!" Max said angrily, hands buried deep in his hoodie pockets and eyebrows drawn together even closer than they usually were. David faltered, stammering a couple of times before finding his voice.

"First of all, Max, how many times do I have to remind you about language! Secondly, I haven't been avoiding Gwen in the least, whatever do you-"

Oh fuck. Even saying her name was enough to trigger the roaring in his ears and the tickling in his throat. Emotions were a bitch. Swallowing, he licked his lips and attempted to continue, fighting off the urge to vomit. "Whatever do you, uh, mean?"

Max stared him down for a few minutes, eyes narrowed, before rolling them and muttering something under his breath as he swung and turned on his heels, heading back to where Nikki was chasing a bug and Neil was theorising about something or other. David felt his eye twitch, the urge to vomit strengthening, when he felt a hand on his back.

"David, you okay?" came the soft voice, and something twinged painfully in Davids chest. Gwen stood beside him, hand on his back, face full of far too much concern for someone who was hiding something so important from her, who didnt deserve her worry, it was his own damned stupid fault. 

"I'm just fine, Gwen!" he managed cheerily, feeling petals bloom in his heart at the lie. His voice was somewhat raspy from the tickling, and Gwen chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking.

"I think we have some medicine somewhere you could take. That's not expired. Probably. This cough is getting worse, you sound like you've just inhaled a demolished building."

Refusing to allow himself to cough, David nodded, feeling pressure build behind his windpipe, the petals forcing themselves up his throat, and if he didnt get out straight away he could tell he was going to burst. "I'll go and find some! Look after the campers!"

"David, I-"

But David was already sprinting towards the mess hall, knees feeling like rubber, chest about to burst and smile nonexistent. He could tell some kids were turning and staring at him, but he had to get away from prying eyes immediately. No one could know he was sick. It would disrupt the camp, it would disrupt the campers, it would all go wrong. So instead, he stumbled into the mess hall, checked around through bleary eyes, tripped into the kitchen and fell to his knees, a flurry of petals escaping his throat and spilling onto the floor, accompanied by leaves and stems that were hell to cough up, but he was in his own layer of personal hell every day the disease stretched on, so what was a little extra pain?

After what felt like the entirety of his body was expelled through a violent and painful coughing fit, on his knees, on the dirty floor of the Camp Campbell kitchen, David managed to push himself up somewhat, rub away the tears collecting in his eyes and blurring his vision, and sweep up the flowers and trash them like nothing had ever happened.

His chest felt... hollow, like there was something missing, and it took a whole lot more effort than usual to pin the perfect cheery smile back onto his face. But regardless, he pinned it, and strode back out as if everything was a-okay.

* * *

The worst thing, David thought, the worst thing about the disease as time went on was when the blood began. At first its just a few drops, spotting the crisp petals, but more and more blood joins, until the petals aren't separated and flurrying anymore, they're wet lumps saturated in blood and occasionally vomit, impossible to sweep up cleanly and even more painful to hack up in the first place. 

He could no longer just shove petals into his pockets and burn them at the end of the day, now they were conjoined and bloody, within just over a month. Now they left bloodstains all over his sheets that he couldn't wash out no matter how hard he tried, and left a bitter taste of metal in his mouth, and made his nose sting and his throat burn and worst of all people were noticing. 

You could only run off and cough up your heart so many times before people start to catch on, start to notice your heaving breaths and weaker smiles, start to notice how much effort you put in just to keep going, and David honestly thought it would be easier to hide than this. He thought the flowers would be beautiful clouds of forbidden, romantic love, cascading over themselves with every exhale, and he thought he would die beautifully. But this... this wasn't beautiful. This was retching over a toilet at three in the morning, having not slept a wink in the past thirty-six hours, with the overbearing knowledge that he'd have to be happy and cheerful as always in just a few more hours. This was vomiting clumps that were near-indistinguishable as flowers at this point, they were so sticky with visceral blood and pain. This was aching inside as he forced himself to not look at Gwen, never look at Gwen, and it was the guilt of seeing how hurt she looked whenever he gave in and glanced at her, only to look away instantly.

Maybe that was the worst thing about the disease. Having to lie to Gwen all the time, every day, having no choice unless he wanted to worry her more or make her uncomfortable, and being unable to hold a conversation of more than a few minutes without ducking out to choke up more pain.

She must hate him. He hates him. 

And then, one day, the inevitable happens, and he can't get away in time to hack up the flowers.

"David! David, are you okay?!"

No, no I'm not, he wanted to scream back, but he couldn't, he was busy curling in on himself and holding his mouth shut as though it would hold him together, as though he wasn't falling apart at the feel of Gwen's hand on his shoulder, as though he was okay. Campers were crowding around him - it had happened just outside the mess hall, when everyone was playing, having a good time, and Gwen had leaned in close, too close, and muttered a joke about something and there was too much ringing in Davids head for him to even remember the joke. 

"Whats wrong with David?" he heard someone ask, it might have been Nikki, but he couldn't recognise the voice properly or hear the response with how he fell to the ground, tears squeezing out of his eyes as he hacked up pure blood and pure orchids into his palms, everyone clamouring around him, wanting to know whats wrong, whats happening, and he wanted to scream that he was in love and he wasn't okay and he hadn't been for a month but he couldn't. 

There was a pause in the flowers, and he took the hand cautiously away from his mouth, breathing shallowly and attempting to smile, reassure everyone. "I'm... I..."

But Gwen appeared in his peripherals, face creased with worry, and he couldn't do anything but cry and hack up the flowers, wet bloody masses of petals and leaves and love and poison.

Distantly, he thought he could maybe hear someone crying, and it might have been himself, it might have been a camper, it might have been Gwen. Everything hurt, and all he could think about was how  _this is it, this is death, this isn't beautiful, I never got to say goodbye, I-_

The flowers slowed, but David had done his research. After a coughing fit like that, flowers slowing only meant one thing - death was soon, and it would be painful, and he breathed in quickly to try and get out some words.

"I-I-I-I..."

He couldn't. He just couldn't. So instead of words, he opened his eyes, seeing through a blurry film of tears, and grabbed as many campers as he could, hugging them close, ignoring their complaints about blood and how disgusting it was - they're just kids, they dont understand but he has to say goodbye, and just as he feels the tickling come back, he turns to Gwen, whos realised, she's realised,  _she knows,_ and pulls her close, and kisses her.

It tastes like blood, and orchids, and death, and tears, and its not beautiful in the least, and he can hear kids making varied noises of disgust, but tears are welling up again, but all he can do is smile as he pulls back from the kiss and starts coughing again.

A single, perfect orchid lands on his hand, and everything goes very still, and so does David.

**Author's Note:**

> by jesus that was a fuckin mess lol
> 
> coherency? whos she?
> 
> no but fr if u enjoyed this first of all,, why,, second of all, hmu w those comments and kudos my man,, yes im a thirsty hoe


End file.
